


New York Home

by ThirteenRedVampireBites



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, BAMF Tony Stark, Baby Harry, Child Neglect, Gen, Harry Potter was Raised by Other(s), Lily Potter is Tony Stark's Cousin, Lily Potter is a Stark, Magical Tony Stark, Parent Tony Stark, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Raises Harry Potter, Tony Stark Saves Harry Potter, Young Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:54:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28464891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirteenRedVampireBites/pseuds/ThirteenRedVampireBites
Summary: With the death of his parents, Tony heads to England to execute their final wills and give his cousins the news.As much as he hates Petunia Dursley, he knows that he has to deal with the wills as written or face the consequences. What he finds, hidden in a boot cupboard under some stairs, will change his life forever. And the lives of the entire world.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Tony Stark, Tony Stark & Original Character(s)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 330





	New York Home

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [New York Home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10057487) by [ThirteenRedVampireBites (orphan_account)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ThirteenRedVampireBites). 



> Hello! Happy 2021!
> 
> So this is the updated version of this fic. Welcome to chapter 1! There is a lot changed. _A lot~_
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> ~Kael

The young man walking up the front path to a bland-looking house from his dark-painted, dark-windowed town car scoffed as he took in the monotony of the neighbourhood he was unfortunate enough to find himself in. Times like this made him want to curse his parents for dying and leaving _him_ with this responsibility when there were numerous members of their legal team who could have taken this job, but he would do what he must as he was asked… no matter how much he hated it. His only hope was that the individual he was visiting had the information he needed as he’d hate to have to go traipsing through government facilities or finding a private investigator to find the information for him, wasting his time by keeping him across the pond away from his projects.

He huffed quietly before rapidly knocking on the door once he’d come to stand in front of it. It was an ugly thing, fake wood that if it weren’t for the peephole and mail slot would be a dead ringer for the door of his dorm room at the first boarding school he attended. He brought his wrist up to look at his watch, timing how long it took for one of the residents to come and answer the door. He noticed movement from the curtains of several of the neighbouring houses but ignored the nosy neighbours, continuing to keep time.

Almost two minutes later and another round of knocking, which made him question whether this wasn’t the right address or if the occupants had gone deaf without him knowing, the door opened to reveal a sunken-cheeked woman with shoulder-length blonde hair. Her dull brown eyes raked over the man standing on her doorstep before she spoke, her tone flat and seemingly bored.

“Anthony.”

The young man—Anthony—sneered at her before speaking himself in the same tone, “Petunia.” He dropped his hand back down to his side, staring at her passively. “I have something that I need to discuss with you. Preferably inside.”

“Fine. Come inside. Vernon and Dudley are in the sitting room. We’ll join them there and sit down on the settee.” She stepped back to allow him inside, barely sparing a glance for the black car parked in front of her house.

He huffed quietly as he followed her into the building. Brushing thin fingers through dark hair, he settled across from her in the armchair. He didn’t spare a glance to the blobs of lard she called family—which he didn’t understand how she could stand it, she’d been adamant as children that she would only settle for someone who could keep up with her athletic pursuits and the largest blob didn’t appear to be able to keep up with a snail let alone Petunia who had almost made the Olympic team for gymnastics as a teenager (not that she looked like she would be able to do the same level of athletics at this point in time)—attempting to keep his focus on getting this whole experience over with instead of letting it wander off to whatever was pinging on his magical senses. He didn’t want to be in these people’s presence for any longer than necessary.

“Mother and Father died six months ago,” Anthony began to say, flicking open the latches on his briefcase, pausing for the expected interruption of condolences before continuing, “We were unable to find his will or Mother’s until last week. Each of them left both yourself and Lily things. I need you to sign the property transfer.”

“Of course!” Petunia replied, her eyes wide and a slight flush to her face. She appeared much more excited at the prospect of everything she could have gotten from her Aunt and Uncle. The joke was on her (again), as like her parents before this, the majority of the articles left to her and her husband were a series of money payments that would occur only four times a year (January 1st, their birthdays, and Christmas) and only in small amounts (at most £2500) but only as long as they lived or were married until the allotted amount ran out or they’d both died, then it would go into the trust for their son to be handled by the family lawyers until he turned twenty-one. The little lard in fact, had been left an even heftier sum that was the trust fund’s opening amount (£500,000) and it included investments which would grow that amount.

“And I need to get into contact with Lily. I was hoping you would know where she is or how I can get into contact with her,” Anthony told her, pulling several papers from his briefcase.

Petunia’s face both soured and paled at the same time, immediately alerting Anthony to something being wrong. A quick flare of the natural magic inside him and he knew what that was almost immediately. His face blanked and he pushed the papers back into his briefcase before he pointedly snapped the lid closed, the latches engaging immediately. He set the case on the floor next to the chair before rising to his feet.

The other occupants of the room (excluding the small lard) froze as he calmly approached the small door under the stairs across the hall from the sitting room. The ventilation slats were open, odd if that was where the cleaning supplies were kept. The childproof lock made sense, especially when the small lard got to its feet and toddled over to a lone block that had been strewn away from the others he’d been playing with. But the other lock made no sense, why would you need another lock on a door that was already locked?

The voice that came from the young man as he looked at the door warned them of the dangerous path they were treading if they didn’t answer how he wanted. “What is under here.” It came out like a statement, and the tone implied harm if it was what he thought it was. “Answer me, or you will find that not even being Blood will protect you from finding out why Stark is a dangerous name.”

“Freak!” was the innocent reply of the small lard that had plopped down to sit next to its father.

As soon as that word had passed the boy’s lips, it was as if a whirlwind had been released in the sitting room. Everything was affected, but to what extent depended. The only effect on the boy and Anthony was a slight breeze ruffling their hair, while the rest of the room was _attacked_ by the wind. Vases fell from their places on the mantle and the bookcases to shatter on the floor; picture frames had their glass shatter before they toppled from their places to crash to the ground and break into several more pieces; the lights flickered, lamps falling off tables and the hanging ceiling light violently swinging; and the knick-knacks that had been swept up by the wind had been thrown around the room, striking the other adults and knocking them out cold.

Anthony took a deep breath before he moved closer to the door. The magical outburst calmed slightly as, although it was still breaking things, it had stopped throwing them around. A careful hand moved to the latches on the door and deftly opened them. He paused for a moment to take another breath before he pulled the door open, knowing what he should expect but still being dismayed and surprised by what he found.

Inside the small cupboard where shelves of cleaning supplies took up the flat wall, lying on a thin mattress and dressed in a much too large and stained sleeper that may have been white at some point, was a small boy. His dark curly hair, hair much like Anthony’s own, was plastered to his forehead by sweat and tears while his inflamed eyes fluttered rapidly in sleep. He had his hands clenched in a light blue blanket covered in moon phases and cutesy clouds that lay over him, the only bedding that Anthony could see. His should-be dark skin was pale, and the pallor of it was alarming in the grayness that shouldn’t be visible. The boy shifted slightly, some of the hair on his forehead coming loose and moving to reveal a scar shaped oddly like a lightning strike that marred his forehead from hairline to eyebrow.

Anthony crouched down gingerly and scooped the tiny tot into his arms. He wasn’t sure he was doing it right, as the last time he’d held a baby had probably been when he was still in primary school, and he’d first met Grace Jarvis—Edwin’s young daughter—but he couldn’t stand the idea that the boy had been without a kind touch since arriving in this hell-house.

Moving back to the chair, he rocked the boy carefully in his arms. Unbuttoning his jacket with one hand, careful not to jostle the boy too much, he kept the boy close to his body. It took only a moment before he was shifting the boy to lay against the cotton of his band tee and buttoning the jacket back up part of the way to hold him against his chest. He reached down to his briefcase, gingerly moving to pick it up and set it down on the small now-clear table to his left so he could open it one-handed. With two quick motions, he had it open, and he was removing his phone from the pocket in the top.

A quick press of an icon on the screen, and he was making a much-needed call. He listened in silence as the phone rang, waiting for the other line to be picked up. He closed his eyes, resting his free hand on the boy’s back as he tried to calm himself down some more so that his magic would quit flaring up around him in search of threats or other things it hadn’t broken yet.

“ _Good morning, this is Janice Fry, secretary to Lawyers Malfoy and Grier. How might I help you, Mister Stark?_ ”

A click had preceded the soft voice of the secretary to the London Branch of Stark Lawyers that had drawn him from his meditation, and Anthony took a deep breath before he spoke quietly into the phone, “Good morning, Ms. Fry. I have an immediate emergency that requires the knowledge and legal help of both Esquires.”

“ _I’ll patch you through to them. They will be most happy to help, as usual. Please let me know if you need anything else._ ”

“Thank you, Ms. Fry.”

Another click sounded, and a short place-keeping tone before a pair of deeper voices greeted him.

“ _Mister Stark_ ,” they greeted together before the lower pitched one continued, “ _How may we help you?_ ”

“I need custody papers for both worlds. I also need a set of NDAs, non-contact agreements, and anything else you feel may be applicable from the brief information I’ve given you.”

“ _Of course, sir. Right away. Where are you currently, Lord Stark?_ ”

“Number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.”

“ _We will arrive in five minutes. Less depending on how long it takes us to find the paperwork we may need._ ”

“Come as soon as you can,” Anthony told them quietly. “This is extremely important.”

“ _Of course, Lord Stark. We will see you in a few moments._ ” The line went dead, and Anthony put his phone back in the pocket in his briefcase.

With his eyes closed, he rested his cheek against the crown of the tot’s head. Rubbing the boy’s back through his jacket and the blanket, he hummed quietly as he waited for the lawyers to show up.

Near silent pops in rapid staccato drew his attention from the tot and he opened his eyes to look at the two men who’d appeared in the hallway just outside the door.

The two men were wildly different in appearance. One had pin-straight, pale almost-white blond hair, and the other had a mess of wild blue-black curls on his head; one was thin and willowy like a swimmer or fencer, while the other was stacked, all around built in ways that made it obvious that he exercised in an interesting way; one was soft edges and smooth lines, the other was all chiselled corners and rough surfaces; one was pale near porcelain skin, while the other was russet and freckles.

These were the two highest level lawyers in the English Branch of Stark Industries’ Legal Counsel and two of Anthony’s closest friends—Warren Grier and Julius Malfoy, newblood and pureblood respectively. Both were the best at what they did, whether that was in the Mundane World or the Magical World, it didn’t matter. The fact that they could drop whatever they had been doing for him—Stark Industries wasn’t their only client; they often took on others as a break from the monotony and to add on to their workload on a case by case basis—touched Anthony’s heart.

“Tony,” the blond—Julius—greeted, looking around the room with narrowed blue eyes at the destruction that had been wrought by Anthony’s magic. “What caused this outbreak of your magic, especially to this extent?”

“In a moment. You brought what you thought was needed?”

“Aye,” Warren replied, pulling his wand from the holster up his sleeve and beginning to set the room back to rights. “You mind telling us why we’re all here and where, in Merlin’s name, this is?”

“This is the home of Petunia Dursley nee Evans, half-sister to Lillian Potter nee Evans and my adopted cousin. I came about Mom and Father’s wills; there were dispensations for Petunia and Lily both in the wills. I had hopes of Petunia knowing where Lily was, only to find out that something had happened to her without notification to the rest of our family,” Tony replied, waving his free hand at Petunia as he spoke.

Both wizards frowned before Julius spoke, “A death notification should have gone out the moment she died which is what is reported to have happened, or someone should have sent something if something else had happened. The wills of both Lily and Lord Potter should have been read, and their son, Hartford, should have gone to his Named legal guardian.”

“No one knows what happened to Hartford,” Warren mentioned, finishing his restoration and returning his wand to his sleeve. “All Headmaster Dumbledore says when questioned is that he is safe and with family. Quite insistently too, now that I think about it.” Warren tapped his chin lightly, murmuring absently, “Perhaps too insistently…”

Tony took a deep breath before opening his jacket again, drawing the men’s attention to the tiny bundle in his arms. At the confusion on their faces, he spoke, “Warren, Julius, meet Hartford Potter.”

**Author's Note:**

>   
> ****  
> [Personal Tumblr](http://thirteenredvampirebites.tumblr.com) / [Writing Tumblr](http://crimsonswolfden.tumblr.com/) / [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Nightworldlove) / [My Writing Blog](https://kate-lee-shadows.blogspot.ca/) / Email: thirteenredangels@hotmail.com  
> ***Tumblr may not work. Just a warning.***  
> 


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